Page 8 of Remember Me

“Really? I didn’t know that.”

She’s clearly not done a lot of digging about me. The truth is, not much comes up when you google me. Google my wife,however, and there are hundreds of entries and I’m mentioned in some.

“What does your wife do?”

“She’s a news reporter... an investigative journalist for Conquest Broadcasting News.”

She cocks her head. “Interesting. What’s her name?”

“Skye Collins. She uses her maiden name.”

“Well, I must say that was a wise decision. No one would take anyone with the last name Hooker seriously. Especially a newscaster.” She rolls her eyes. “I’ve seen her on TV. Quite the in-your-face one.”

I let the digs go. “Yeah, she’s really passionate about what she does. And is really good at it.”

“Like you.” She pauses to take another sip of her sparkling beverage. “So, any children?”

“Yeah. One. We had a baby nine months ago... a girl.”

Another eye roll. “Shame on me. I should have known better. I thought your wife was getting fat when she was in fact pregnant.”

I’m taken aback by her words. They border on another insult, but I bite my tongue and say, “She carried very small. Hardly anyone knew she was pregnant. Plus, she never mentioned it on the air or took a maternity leave. She purposely low-keyed it.”

“Whatever.” To my relief, she changes the subject, refocusing on me. “So, Finn, have you ever had representation?”

“You mean like an agent or manager?”

Another pick at her greens. “Yes, exactly.”

“No.”

“Well, you should. You have untapped talent and I would like to be the one to see you reach your potential.”

“Excuse me?”

“I know many collectors who will pay top dollar for your work. The marketplace right now supports emerging artists.Everyone wants to be the first to own someone new and fresh. Art on the edge. A gifted artist who will one day become legendary.”

I set down my burger and digest her words. Is she saying what I think she’s saying? On my next rapid heartbeat, my hunch is confirmed.

“Finn, I’d like to represent you.”

“Wow!” The word flies out of my mouth.

“However, you must be open to reinvention.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll be honest with you. And you should know I never hold back.”

My heart thuds in anticipation while she takes another sip of her Bellini.

“Your name... it’s got to go. It willneversell paintings. You need something new... a memorable one with an artistic ring.”

“What’s wrong with Finn?”

“Ugh! Seriously? The first thing that comes to mind is that Huckleberry douche from that god awful book my sixth grade teacher forced on me.”

I don’t tell her that Huckleberry Finn was my childhood hero. A dreamer like me. And that coincidentally, Hooker was the last name of a wealthy woman he fabricated to save his slave friend Jim. Instead, I say, “It’s short for Phineas.”

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